Demons of the Past
by djk1982
Summary: When a demon from Wolfwood's past returns, will the faith of the wandering priest, and of his friends, be enough to save him?
1. Default Chapter

Greetings once again, loyal readers! Once again, all disclaimers apply to this fic. Trigun and its characters do not belong to me; otherwise I would be too rich to be worrying about writing fanfics. Hope you all enjoy this fic, and beware the demons within!  
  
DEMONS OF THE PAST  
  
PART 1  
  
My little demon, comin'on down.  
  
My little demon's turnin' me around.  
  
all of my friends keep on tellin'me  
  
that I just ain't the man I used to be.  
  
I really don't like it...ain't nothing I can do.  
  
I really don't like it...I'm leaving it to you.  
  
Lindsey Buckingham  
  
The loud groaning and grunting echoed down the dark hallways. In each of the small cells, prisoners tried their hardest to ignore it. To some of them, it sounded as if a man was being tormented somewhere at the end of the cellblock. And little did they know that, in so many ways, he was. "Does he have to make such a God-awful racket?" one of the guards muttered to some of his companions as they watched the activities within the cell on the surveillance cameras.  
"Look at it this way" one of them said in response, "At least when he does this he stops singing."  
"He never could find a way to get all those swear words to rhyme" a third commented.  
"They sure they want to let a thing like him out?" the first one asked his companions. The other two shrugged.  
"They can't keep him here. Takes up too much of other people's money to keep him locked up. Besides, you complaining about him getting out of here?"  
None of them could come up with a response.  
  
Officer Carl Resnick slowly walked down to the end of the cellblock. A ring of keys jangled on his belt. He stopped a few feet away from his destination and sighed heavily. He did not want to do this.  
He stepped up to the cell. Inside, the sunlight that poured through the barred window illuminated the cot that was bolted to the wall, the small shelf lined with books, all religious scriptures, and the variety of babble that its occupant had scrawled all over the walls. He sighed again; another mess to clean up.  
The single figure inside the cell gripped a pair of drainage pipes that poked out of the ceiling. He groaned as he slowly pulled himself up until his head almost collided with the plaster ceiling above him, and then lowered himself back down with a long breath. He was doing chin-ups.  
Resnick winced as he watched. Each movement caused the scars and tattoos that littered his torso to wriggle and slither, as if they were alive. A tattoo of a serpent ran down his left arm, writhing with each flex. On his right forearm, flowing scripture spelled out a single word: DEMON. On the left side of his back, another tattoo read "VENGANCE IS MINE," and just below his shoulder blades, a grinning skull gazed out at the entire world. The overall effect was very unnerving.  
"All right freak-show" Resnick finally said, "Its time. Get your stuff together."  
The figure in the cell paused a moment, mid-lift, and then dropped down to its feet with a loud thud. It straightened up, and a deep chuckle emitted from its front.  
"They can never cage me. I will always find a way out."  
"You'll be back here in a week."  
"I'm never coming back here, Resnick. Not as I am now, at least." He chuckled again, and then put a shirt on. He gathered up what few possessions he had in the small cell, and then stepped out into the hallway. Resnick placed a pair of handcuffs on his wrists, checked that they were firmly secured, and then escorted him on his way.  
  
"So long, weirdo" one of the security personnel along the outer gate said as the prisoner waited for the main entrance to open. "Going to look up some old friends?"  
"Can't" came the reply.  
"Why's that?"  
"Tore them all up already."  
The security officer's jaw dropped. He strained for a response, but found none. He watched as the gate opened, and the monster stepped out of the facility that had been his home for the past eight years. As he left, the clouds parted, and a ray of sun fell on the prison for what seemed like the first time in ages.  
  
Outside, the newly released inmate grinned a long, hideous grin. If anyone had been near him, they would have noticed that his canine teeth were intentionally filed to a razor sharpness, giving him an almost vampire- like appearance.  
"All but one..." he whispered to himself. He reached into one of his pockets, and withdrew a small photograph. He gazed at it for what seemed like a long time. His eyes wanted to burn holes in it. A small line of drool ran down his chin as he hissed to himself.  
On the photograph, the face of Nicholas D. Wolfwood smiled at him.  
He grunted, crumpled the picture up into a small ball, and tossed it into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and then started walking. 


	2. Nightmares

DEMONS OF THE PAST  
  
PART 2  
  
He was coming!  
Wolfwood panted, his tongue hanging from his mouth like a cash register receipt as he struggled to keep running. His chest heaved with each step. And yet, the sound of the footfalls behind him did not hesitate once, they just kept coming and coming. He groaned, and tried to run faster.  
"Nicholas..." the childish voice whispered behind him, "I'm coming to give you what you deserve!" as the second part was spoken, the voice changed from the sweet pitch of a child into a deep, guttural growl. It sent chills up Wolfwood's spine, and it made him run faster.  
He reached the door, and tore it open. He slammed it shut just in time to stop the monster that was chasing him. He heard the sound of it banging against the wood, scratching and clawing as it tried to break its way through. His eyes flicked around the room, tried to find something that would reinforce the door, keep it locked out forever. But he found nothing.  
"Cross..." he said between gasping breaths, "Need...my...cross!" he scurried up the stairs, raced down the hallway, threw open the doorway. He ripped the room apart, flipped over the bed mattress, knocked over the dressed, tore everything out of the closet in his search, but his cross was nowhere. He was defenseless!  
He had to warn the girls. He hurried back down the hallway to the room they slept in. He yanked the door open and charged in. "Millie, Merryl, hurry, we have to..." the words drained from his mouth as his eyes beheld the carnage that lay within. Milly and Merryl's bodies lay, mutilated on their beds. Their blood was spattered on the mattresses, on the floors, on the walls. Their lifeless eyes gazed up at him, accusingly. Why weren't you here for us?  
Wolfwood moaned, a tormented, anguished moan. He turned from the hideous sight, and felt himself suddenly yanked up from his feet. The black, metal claw that grasped the collar of his shirt pulled him up with a monstrous strength, as the other raised up above his head, fingers extended fully, the razor ends of the talons glinting. Wolfwood screamed as it came roaring down toward his face...  
  
"Mr. Priest! Mr. Priest! Are you alright?" Millie's worried face flew into Wolfwood's vision, and he screamed at the suddenness of it. This made Millie scream as well. Merryl came running in, looking concerned, and Millie screamed at her, which caused Merryl to scream. Their combined screams hurt Wolfwood's ears, and caused him to scream once again.  
"Hey!" Vash shouted as he stormed into the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes, "What the hell is going on in here? What's all the screaming about?" He felt the words drain from his mouth when Millie, Merryl, and Wolfwood all stared at him as if he had just stepped off a spaceship.  
"Sorry..." Wolfwood said, running a hand through his hair, "Just having a nightmare."  
"Oh. Do you want to talk about it?" Millie took his hand, her concern written in her eyes. Wolfwood looked into those eyes for a moment, trying not to drown on those twin oceans of blue. Their childlike innocence moved him in a way he found very profound. They soothed his nerves, and the fear previously in him left.  
"No, don't worry about it" he said, offering her one of his most charming smiles. She returned it, and they felt themselves at peace.  
"Well, that's a load off" Vash said sarcastically as he stepped out of the room. Merryl followed him.  
"Come on, Mr. Priest, or you'll miss breakfast" Millie said she rose from alongside the bed, and followed her companions out the door. Wolfwood remained for a moment, troubled still by his dream.  
He eventually rose, and dressed. As he stood before the mirror, straightening his collar, he sighed at his reflection. He stared back at himself, wondering just who it was he was looking at. Was it himself, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, gazing at him, or was it someone else?  
He dropped one of his cross-shaped cufflinks as he tried to slip them into their place on his sleeves. He bent down to pick it up. When he straightened back up, he saw the figure standing behind him. The black cloak he wore went down almost to his ankles, and a hood covered part of his face. Jagged teeth grinned out from a mouth that was surrounded by scraggly whiskers. He raised one arm, the hand covered by a black metal claw, readying for a skull cracking slash.  
Wolfwood spun instantly in place, his eyes as large as saucers. There was no one behind him. He looked around the room, making sure. His chest rose and fell quickly, some drops of sweat tricked down his neck. He turned back to the mirror, and saw only his own reflection. He moaned, and shook his head, and wondered if his own demons would ever be exorcised.  
  
"Hey, you okay?" Vash asked through the mouthful he was chewing. Merryl reached up and smacked him across the back of his head, which caused him to start choking on his food. He coughed and pounded on his chest, reached for a glass of water. "I wish you wouldn't do that!" he screeched at Merryl, who just continued to eat as if he were not even there.  
"Well, you shouldn't talk with your mouth full" was her only reply.  
"He's right, Mr. Priest. You look like you've seen a ghost" Millie commented as Wolfwood sat down next to her.  
"I may have" he replied in a whisper. She cast him a confused look, which he ignored. He looked down at the food before them, and found it rather unappetizing. His stomach felt like a hole in his torso. He rested his elbows on the table, clasped his hands together, and prayed.  
Vash, Merryl, and Millie all looked at him curiosly for a moment, and then resumed eating. After a few moments of silence, Wolfwood ate as well. They said nothing else to each other that day.  
  
The monster stood in the center of a forge. He looked around him, and found his surroundings good. Here he had all he required. He grasped a metal pale in one hand. It was full of scraps. He held it over a small table, and turned it over. The pieces of metal all scattered down onto the table in a chorus of noise. He sorted through the hurriedly, searching for the just right parts. He picked up the blades from some old knives, some flat plates, a few bolts and screws. These he set aside, and the rest he cast into a flaming furnace. Once it all melted, he poured it out onto the flat head of an anvil and began to hammer it into the correct shapes.  
His great work was beginning; the remaking of The Nightmare Talons.  
He worked feverishly, forging and shaping and molding and hammering. The hours rolled by, and the gauntlets began to take shape. They glistened in the dancing firelight, the flames almost looking like demonic faces in the reflection. 


	3. Confrontation

Hiya once again, true believers! I'm sorry this took so long to update, but I have not watched my Trigun DVD's for months, and also I have been very involved in other fanfics that have been absorbing a lot of my creative juices. To one loyal reader who has given me great reviews, I am not telling who the villain is. But, I do dare all of you who read this to guess what his relationship is to Wolfwood! Till next time, read on!  
  
CHAPTER 3 COMING TO DRAG ME DOWN...  
  
The twin suns were dipping over the horizon, leaving the small town clothed in darkness. The sky was had already attained a faint blue, and the lights from the buildings illuminated the streets. For the people of this small town, it was business as usual. This is why none of them noticed the lone figure that slowly walked in from the desert.  
He was clothed in a black cloak that covered most of his body. He kept his arms down straight at his sides, his hands not visible. His face was concealed by a hood that only allowed for his fine chin and some scrufty whiskers to be seen. From beneath the darkness of the hood, a pair of dead eyes gazed out at the world.  
  
Merryl groaned and rubbed her temples. She had a monstrous headache. She opened her eyes and looked at her typewriter. It almost seemed to mock her.  
"Merryl, are you all right?" Millie asked as she slapped another stack of forms down next to her partner. Merryl looked at the size of this new stack, and at the one she had yet to finish, and collapsed, her head laying down on the table.  
"What did I do to deserve so much work?" she moaned into the wood surface.  
"Come on Merryl, you need a break" Millie said, tugging on her friends arm. Merryl looked up into Millie's eyes. She knew her friend meant well, but lately it seemed nothing could brighten her mood. She was about to protest when Millie yanked her up out of her chair. Millie's strength never ceased to surprise Merryl. Vash also knew this lesson as well, having been on the receiving end of some backbreaking Millie hugs.  
Millie led Merryl downstairs, into the main area of the inn they were currently staying at. The evening crowd had drifted in. Many people were at the bar, trying to drown their sorrows. More were sitting at the tables, eating or playing some sort of card games. Much to Merryl's personal distaste, she saw Vash and Wolfwood amongst them. Vash was seated at the bar, looking already quite intoxicated. Wolfwood was next to him, and they each had an arm around the other's shoulders, and were attempting to sing some sort of drinking song.  
"Such behavior. And he calls himself a priest." Merryl turned her chin up as she spoke, trying to imply how above such things she was.  
"Yeah..." Millie's voice had a slightly dreamy tough. Merryl caught the soft smile her companion had for the wandering priest. Merryl herself couldn't help but smile a little. She knew how her friend cared for their traveling companion. It was touching, in a strange sort of way. Although, in some other ways, it seemed totally mismatched.  
"Come on, Millie. Lets get some fresh air." Merryl tugged her friend's arm, pulling her out the door into the streets. Night had fallen, and the air was much cooler now. They wandered the streets, striking up small talk with some of the people they came across. They purchased some oranges from a vendor in the street and munched them in the soft glow of a street lamp.  
"I'm looking for someone" came a throaty voice from behind them. It caused them both to jump, almost choking on their oranges. They spun around and were met with one of the most bizarre men they had ever seen. His face was hidden under a hood, and only his chin and mouth were visible.  
  
"Um...we're happy to help, in whatever way we can" Merryl stated in a choked voice. Something about this man did not feel right to her.  
"Yeah, happy to oblige..." Millie added, "who are you looking for?"  
"A man...a priest...about ye tall" he held up one hand about level to his head. When his arm raise, Millie and Merryl both found themselves mesmerized by the sight of a gleaming metal claw where his hand should have been.  
"Sorry, no one like that around here" Millie said, and with that she and Merryl both quickly turned to leave. But they were restrained by the cold metal hands that clapped onto both their shoulders. He spun them back around to face him.  
"Your eyes lie...your tongues follow suite" he tightened his grip on them, making them both flinch. "I know he is here, I can feel him. And I know you know who he is, I can smell him on you. You will take me to him."  
  
"Why do you want to see him?" Merryl asked as she tried to free herself from his grasp.  
"Destiny."  
"Hey you, get your damn hands off..." Vash's slurred speech stopped when the ice cold eyes locked on him. The stranger who was holding onto the girls gave a contemptuous snort.  
"And who the hell are you?"  
"He's Vash the Stampede!" Merryl declared. She was hoping that maybe Vash's reputation would work to their advantage for once. Instead, the stranger simply looked Vash over, and then turned his head to Merryl. His eyes narrowed in a way that showed he clearly did not believe her. Merryl groaned to herself as she looked at Vash. Standing there, half drunk, trying to stay upright, his eyes a little glassy, his speech slurred, he certainly did not look like the image that came to mind when one thought of a legendary outlaw.  
"You think I'm stupid?" the stranger hissed, and tightened his grip even harder on the girl's shoulders. They both gave small gasps of pain and began struggling to try to free themselves, but his hands were like vices. He shoved Merryl into Vash, who promptly fell over and lay chortling in the dirt. "I let you go...to bring the priest to me." He coiled his metal fingers around Millie's neck and glared at Merryl and Vash. "I will be keeping this one until you bring him."  
As if these words had somehow sobered him up, Vash leapt to his feet and reached under his coat. His fingers brushed against the metal of his gun.  
"Wolfwood? What do you want Wolfwood for?" Vash said in his best authoritative voice. He assumed a combat ready stance, and tried his best to look tough. But the stranger was obviously less than impressed.  
"Did I hear my name? Who wants to see me?" came Wolfwood's voice. All eyes swung over toward the shadows, where Wolfwood emerged into the light. He looked a little drunk himself, his cheeks slightly flushed, a rather giddy expression written across his face. That all vanished however, when he got a look at the situation. And when he saw the person who now held Millie hostage, the color drained completely from his face. His legs suddenly became weak, and he stumbled back a few steps.  
Millie heard her captor skip a breath. His finger's tightened slightly on her throat, and right next to her ear, she heard the bad breathed voice whisper.  
"Nicholas."  
"A-Alex!" Wolfwood gasped as he struggled to absorb all that was happening.  
Somewhere in the night sky above them, a star fell from its place in the heavens and streaked through the sky, a trail of fire blazing behind it. 


	4. Deal with the Devil

CHAPTER 4 COME TO PUNISH ME...  
  
"Were you expecting me to stay locked up forever, Nicholas? That I'd just lay down and rot? You know me better than that. I always find a way out. And nothing can keep us apart for too long."  
"I-I didn't..." Wolfwood stuttered as he tried his hardest to regain himself. Merryl, Millie, and Vash were all surprised by his sudden demeanor. He looked positively terrified.  
The stranger, Alex evidently was his name, brought one of his black claws up, and leveled one of the long, pointed fingers at Millie's neck. When Wolfwood saw the glinting metal of those claws, he sputtered. "Th-the Nightmare Talons!"  
"Reforged, piece by piece" Alex cackled over Millie's shoulder. "And mastered once again by someone with the strength to use them." He pressed the tip of his talon against Millie's neck, causing her to flinch with pain.  
"Don't touch her!" Vash shouted as he whipped his gun from beneath his coat. He took aim and fired, but in a flash of movement that put even Vash the Stampede himself to shame, Alex shoved Millie aside, barrel rolled across the ground, Vash's shots flying straight over him. He stopped at Vash's ankles and attempted to slash at him with his claws, but Vash hastily leapt aside, stumbling and falling onto his back.  
Before Alex could press the attack, more shots were pointed at him, this time from Merryl, who had popped her multitude of small pistols back from their positions under her coat. But in a flash he was not only back on his feet, but in fact leapt high into the air, somersaulting over the head's of Vash and Millie, landing directly in front of Merryl. He grabbed her hands with his metal claws, and crushed the small pistols in his grip. Merryl had enough time to see the white toothed grin he flashed at her, and then blacked out when he slammed his forehead against hers.  
"Now, Nicholas..." Alex hissed as he spun to face the wandering priest. But much to his surprise, as well as that of Vash and Millie, Wolfwood had fled the scene, and was already well down the street. "Get back here Nicholas!" Alex roared. He began chasing after his prey.  
Wolfwood's attention was only on the street in front of him. All thoughts of his companions and even of the monster pursuing him were gone. All he could think of was putting as much distance between the two of them as possible. "You can't get away from me! I'll chase you to the ends of the earth!" Alex shouted from behind him. This only fueled Wolfwood's desire to get away.  
But Alex had other plans. He once again leapt into the air, propelling himself with the force of his powerful legs. He did a perfect flip straight over Wolfwood's head, landing flat on his feet in front of him. Wolfwood ground to a halt, his feet kicking out ahead of him, sending him sprawling onto his back. He gazed up at the nightmare that stood before him, and tried his best to scramble away as Alex advanced.  
"You can't run away from me, Nicholas..." Alex growled as he stared down at the object of his hunt. "There is nothing that can keep us from facing up to our destiny, together." He reached down, grasped Wolfwood's collar with one of those terrible claws, and hauled him to his feet, off his feet. He leveled one outstretched claw right before Wolfwood's eyes, ready to strike. "Time to join all your friends...in hell."  
One bullet tore the tip of the claw that was about to stab Wolfwood away. Two more ripped the front of his shirt off, sending the priest back onto the ground, some shreds of cloth remaining in Alex's hand. Wolfwood took in the situation, and then uttered a silent prayer of thanks. Alex stood, dumbfounded until he turned his head and saw Vash, Merryl, and Millie running up to them.  
Vash took steady aim, ready to take this strange man's head off if he had to. But then, much to Vash's surprise, Alex seemed to ignore him completely. He knelt down and picked up the piece of the claw that Vash had shot off, and examined it regretfully. He held up the damaged hand and narrows his eyes.  
"Damn" he muttered.  
"I don't know who you are, or why you attacked us, but there's got to be a way we can work this out" Vash said over his gun. But Alex just went on ignoring him as he matched up the broken tip to its claw. He frowned and grunted, thinking of the work he'd have to do to repair it. "Hey, are you even paying attention to me!" Vash shouted, losing his posture for a moment as he swung his arms in the air, trying to gain his enemies attention.  
Wolfwood caught the flash in Alex's eyes, knew what was going to happen, and shouted.  
"Girls, look out!"  
But the words came too late. In a flash of motion, Alex threw the broken tip, and it landed in Millie's flesh. She gave a startled gasp and stared at the point sticking out of her hand. Her eyes went large, and she loosed a horrible scream. She collapsed to her knees, clutching her injured hand.  
Vash turned to take aim back at Alex, but he stood up, his damaged claw raised up.  
"There's venom in each talon" he said, a cocky grin working its away what little of his face they could see. "I'm the only one who knows how to concoct the antidote. Nicholas here can vouch for that."  
"He's right Vash" Wolfwood was standing now. He faced his mysterious assailant, his face grim and determined.  
"What?" For the first time the cold, confident demeanor of Alex wore away. He looked at Wolfwood, his shock evident. He looked back at Vash. "You mean to say that he's really Vash the Stampede?" His mouth hung open for a moment, then resumed its evil smile. "Ah...so now even the self proclaimed savior of the lambs is allying himself with murderers and outlaws...dammit, I love it!" He clapped his metal hands together in a clap of approval.  
"What's it going to take to get that antidote?" Vash demanded, trying his best to look imposing, which was difficult, considering how confused he was.  
"Give me what I want." Alex turned his glare back onto Wolfwood.  
"No way!" Merryl started to say. But Wolfwood held up a hand, silencing her.  
"No, Merryl. I have to do this eventually..." he stared at the ground, sighed heavily, and then looked back up at Alex. "Give her the antidote now. I'll go get my cross while you treat her..."  
"And pit my talons against your cross while they are damaged? You know me better than that, Nicholas." He held one arm straight out to his side and pointed toward the mountains outside of the town. "Meet me there, on the summit of the cliffs, tomorrow, at noon. Come alone."  
"If I promise, you'll give her the antidote now?" Alex grimaced and nodded his head. Wolfwood stepped forward, without hesitation, and held his hand out. Alex grinned wickedly as he clasped the Wolfwood's hand with his metal claw, and they shook briefly.  
"You've sold your soul, Nicholas. And you know it." He stepped away from Wolfwood, walked over to Millie, who was laying on the ground, tears of pain staining her face. He jabbed her hard in the arm with one of his talons, and Millie screamed.  
"Hey!" Vash shouted, jumping forward, but Alex silenced him as he stood.  
"Only enough to keep her alive for another day. The full amount will come at the sealing of our bargain" he said over his shoulder. "The cliffs, tomorrow, alone. It will be an even trade off. One soul for another." He pulled his cloak closer around him and stalked off into the night.  
  
"Don't you worry, sweetie. Its going to be all right." Wolfwood held Millie's good hand in his, stroking her skin gently. He was seated right beside her as she lay in her bed. Her injured hand was bandaged. She had fallen into a painful sleep, and even now her face was contorted, letting her companions know the agony she was in.  
"Who was that guy, Wolfwood?" Vash said from his position, leaning against the wall. Merryl sat in a chair next to him, watching as her friend labored against the toxin in her sleep.  
"He's a demon, Vash. Come straight from hell to punish me for my sins."  
"Talk sense, will you!"  
"Are you actually going to do it?" Merryl asked, breaking into the conversation.  
"I don't have a choice. He meant it when he said he's the only one who knows how to make the antidote."  
"Do you want one of us to come with you, just in case he has something up his sleeve?"  
"I'm sure that he does. But I have to go alone. This is something I have to do, just him and me. I've put it off for too long." Vash and Merryl both looked at him, their minds confused, their hearts aching. They could feel the pain that Wolfwood radiated as they talked about it.  
"What does this guy have on you?" Vash asked as he came alongside the bed to look at Millie.  
"It's a long story, Vash. I don't want to tell it right now. You two better get some rest."  
"Are you sure? I could watch Millie. You need rest. You'll need it tomorrow, I have a feeling." Merryl tried to sound more optimistic, but at the moment she had never dreaded the future more.  
"No, its okay. I'll watch her. Please." Vash and Merry left without a word. Wolfwood remained seated by Millie's side, holding her hand. But his mind was a whole lifetime away. And instead of Millie's groans of pain, he heard the sounds of a gunshot, of a woman dying, and of two children's tears... 


	5. A New Deal

PART 5 A NEW DEAL  
  
Nicholas P. Wolfwood grunted and huffed as he struggled to heft his cross punisher up the rocky cliffs. It was slow going, and the twin suns beat down onto him mercilessly. And, of course, the fact that he was quire sure that he was soon going to be dead did not make it any easier.  
Actually, he felt surprisingly calm. He had known he would die one day. Although, in all honesty, he had never expected it would come this way. He looked up at the sky to check the position of the suns. They were not quite at their peak yet, not yet noon. He decided he had time to savor one last earthly pleasure.  
He sat down on a large rock and felt around in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. As he light up, he allowed his mind to wander a bit. He thought about the past, mostly. First, he thought about that morning, where Merryl and Vash had tried one last time to convince him not to go off to face this demon of his past. Vash had offered to follow him, trailing just far enough so that Alex would not know he was there till the last minute. Merryl offered to come as well. But he had refused them both. This was something he had to do alone. Besides which, he was certain that somehow, Alex would know. He had always somehow known before.  
And then his thoughts focused solely Alex, on his demon. Yes, a true demon of his past...  
  
Here now is Nicholas Wolfwood once again, five years younger than the day he first met Vash the Stampede and Merryl and Millie of the Bernardelli Insurance Society. He stood at the doorway to a large room, where two rows of beds alone each wall signified the orphans who slept there. At the other end of the room stood one of those orphans. Behind her stood Alex. He gripped the child by her hair, occasionally giving a hard yank so that she would produce a few tears, to add further effect to his threat. He leveled a knife against her throat, the light bouncing off its blade to reflect in the child's eyes in infinite white dots.  
"Let her go, Alex..." he said, one hand raised. The other was at his side, trying desperately to move slowly to the gun he had tucked the waistline of his pants. He tried to make the move as suttle as possible, hoping Alex's attention would be on his eyes, not his hands. "This is between us, don't drag her into it..."  
"She became involved in it the moment she met you, Nicholas. And you are only killing her." He pressed the edge of the blade to her neck, eliciting a terrified gasp as she felt its sharp coldness against her skin. Nicholas' hand moved back from the gun. Alex grinned malevolently. "I told you I'd punish you..."  
"Alex...please...don't do this..." the helplessness in Nicholas' voice registered in Alex's eyes. He sipped his enemies pain, and found it exquisite.  
"Say please, Nicholas. Say it for me...please..."  
"Please..."  
"Please..."  
"Please...let her go..."  
"You always were such a bleeding heart." The finality of the statement slashed Nicholas almost as bad as the knife slashed into the girl's throat. Her final horrified whisper was overwhelmed by Nicholas' scream as he whipped his gun from its place and fired off four shots. Two of them tore into Alex's leg, the third slammed into his stomach, and the final ripped into his shoulder. Alex fell back with a shout of pain, shoving the child away. She fell to the floor, moaning and crying as best she could with her windpipe cut. Nicholas wanted to run to her, to hold her in his arms, to try to save her. But his feet remained rooted to the spot. As the tears rolled down his cheeks, he gazed into the eyes of Alex, and saw only darkness.  
Alex removed his hand from his leg, where it had been clutching at the wounds the bullets had made. He held his hand up, covered, dripping with blood. His mouth turned up into a deaths head grin as he whispered through the pain, "See? See?"  
Nicholas screamed.  
  
Wolfwood jumped up from his seat with a start. He grabbed his cross punisher, ready to activate any of its multiple weapons. His eyes whipped around him, searching for the danger, and found nothing. After a moment, his heartbeat slowed to normal, and he realized he had been dreaming.  
He gazed down at his hands. They did not tremble. He finally hauled his cross punisher back up, and resumed his slow ascension up the cliffs.  
  
"I still think we should have gone with him." Merryl was pacing back and forth, her arms crossed over her chest. She stared at the floor, as if she were going to find an answer to their situation between the cracks of those floorboards.  
"You heard him. He has to do this himself." Vash was leaning against the window, gazing out at the goings on of the town below them. He was hoping that maybe the sight of life would keep him from thinking about death today.  
"If only there were some way to know what's happening" Merryl sighed. She sat down next to the bed where Millie was laying. Her pain was growing worse, it was visible. She trembled like a leaf in the wind, sweat shined on her skin. She occasionally gave whimpers of agony and some small tears stained her face.  
"He'll be okay, I'm sure he will. He's taken on lots worse than this guy. He'll be fine." Vash tried to sound as confident as possible with these words. But, in truth, he felt an aching in the pit of his stomach that told him something terrible was going to happen today.  
"I don't know...I just don't know..." Merryl held one of Millie's hands in both of hers. She pressed it to her forehead, and offered a brief prayer for both her friends safety. Her concentration was broken when Vash moved for the door. "Where are you going?"  
"To get drunk, to play with some kids, to practice shooting, anything is better than sitting around here waiting for something to happen." Merryl wanted to chew him out for saying it so callously, but she could not deny that in her heart, she desired to do the same exact thing. "Vash..." she called, helplessly as he stepped out the door. He turned his head to look at her. "Could you pick up some food while you're out...for when she's better?" Vash smiled warmly at her, and nodded.  
  
Wolfwood froze. He had heard something. It was a soft sort of rustling, the sound of pebbles rolling against dirt. He waited, waited, and eventually heard the sound again. He set the cross punisher down and withdrew one of his pistols from its storage unit. Alex was somewhere close.  
He stood, still and silent, waiting for something to happen. After a few moments, there was the definite sound of a footstep behind a large boulder twenty feet ahead of him. He opened fire at the rock, and the moment the first shot pierced the air a cloaked figure darted out from behind it, lunging for a pile of rocks several feet away. But Wolfwood was even faster than that. He yanked the cross punisher from its place in the dirt, swung it around in his arms, and opened fire with its automatic cannon, plastic the stone pile to bits. The figure hiding behind it tried to make another dash, but tripped and fell. In an instant Wolfwood was on top of him. He pressed the muzzle of the gun into his opponents chest, his finger steady on the trigger.  
"Wait! I surrender! Please!" shouted a voice that most definitely was not Alex. Wolfwood stood, dumbstruck for a solid two minutes. But realization quickly kicked in. He reached down and tore the hood from the person laying beneath him, to reveal a brown haired young man, not more than 18 years old. "Please mister...I dun wanna die..." he choked between his tears of fear.  
"Who the hell are you?" Wolfwood shouted, his outrage clear.  
"Some weird guy gave me three hundred double dollars to come up here wearing this thing and wait...he didn't tell me I'd get shot at!"  
"Where is he? Where did he go?" Wolfwood demanded, hauling the young man up by his collar.  
"He said something about changing the deal. That's all I know, I swear!"  
Wolfwood contemplated those words for a moment before realization flooded him.  
"Oh God no..."  
  
Vash stepped out into the street, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. He took a deep breath, and some of the tension left him. He watched two children playing across the street, and it eased his worries.  
Wolfwood would be all right. He would vanquish this monster that haunted him, and his worries would be put to rest. He would come back to them, perhaps a bit bruised, but no worse for the wear, and in time his wounds would heal and they would all be content again.  
Vash was so distracted by his thoughts that he did not at all notice the scurrying above him, on the roof of the inn. As he stepped into the street, a hooded figure leapt from the very top of that building, fell through the air and landed with a soft thud behind him. He landed flat on his feet, with a ballet dancers grace. But the sound grabbed Vash's attention. But before the legendary gunman could turn to face the danger, he felt a sharp pain in his back, as if something had bit him.  
"Nighty night" the cold voice of Alex whispered behind him.  
"Heeeeey" Vash managed to say as his body grew heavy. He collapsed to his knees, wobbled for a moment, and then fell face forward into the dirt. He dozed as if he were a child who had just been tucked into bed.  
Alex smiled down at the unconscious form below him. He ignored the attention the brief struggle had drawn from the passersby on the street. He turned and walked into the inn.  
  
Wolfwood panted as he ran past the buildings. His lungs were burning in his chest, threatening to burst. His mouth was dry, choked with the dust of the desert, his shirt completely soaked with sweat. He had left his cross punisher back on the cliff, along with the young man who had posed as Alex. He had told him to watch the cross and protect it as if his life depended on it, because it probably would. He could not afford to carry it around when speed was the thing he needed most.  
He allowed himself to slow down as he approached the inn. It all looked calm from the outside. He went at a joggers pace through the doors. The people questioned his messy appearance with their eyes. His own eyes darted around the room, quickly scanning. They settled on the form of Vash, still snoozing, seated on the floor, his back against the wall. Wolfwood darted over and shook his friend's shoulders.  
"Vash! Vash, wake up you jerk! What happened? Where are the girls?"  
"Hmm..." Vash muttered, his eyes fluttering open lazily.  
"Your friend there has been sleeping all day" the innkeeper said from the bar. Wolfwood turned his gaze onto the portly, older man. "Some kids dragged him inside earlier. Said it looked like some strange fellow hit him or something."  
"What about the girls? There were two women staying here. Where are they?"  
"Well, as far as I know, they're still up in their rooms. Why, something wrong?"  
Wolfwood did not answer. He was already up the stairway, down the hall, at the door. He flung it open and beheld the carnage inside. The bed had been overturned, the dressed knocked over on its side. The small mirror that had rested on the wall above the sink was shattered, its shards reflecting the panicked preacher's face all over. The window was also shattered, the glass sparkling from the floor. And nailed onto the inside of the door with a knife was a piece of paper. He tore it off and read:  
Dearest Nicholas,  
I am sorry I was unable to attend our arranged meeting this afternoon, but I fear that after careful consideration I found the terms of our bargain to not meet my liking. I have undertaken to make arrangements for the new bargain that we now have if you choose to heed this message.  
You need not fear for the lives of your pretty pets, they are perfectly well. I administered the anti-venom to the brown haired girl as I promised, fulfilling my end of the old bargain, just as you fulfilled yours by going to the cliffs. She is most lovely, if I might add. Very sensitive. Should you choose not to adhere to the terms of the new bargain, I shall have to see just how sensitive she really is. She and her friend are contained in a very secluded area, where they can make all the sound they wish and not be heard. I could entertain myself with them for days on end, should you leave me in a position to do so.  
You need not fear for the life of your other traveling companion either. I merely pumped him with a hefty dose of heavy tranquilizers that should leave him well incapacitated for at least a day. Long enough for him to be kept well out of our mutual affairs, should you choose to concur to the new bargain I have set forth for us.  
But, if you do honor the new bargain, as I hope you will, then no harm shall befall either of the lovely young ladies, and your legendary outlaw will also live for the rest of his days with no fear of my shadow ever befalling him again. The terms are simple: as in the original bargain, you are to come alone to a location of my choosing, were we will settle our affairs with each other once and for all. The prize you shall receive for this meeting shall be the lives of your friends, and the possibility of a lifetime without ever having to worry about me again. Although, there is no saying whether we might not meet in dreams, once in a while. I dreamt of you during my imprisonment.  
Bring help, and I will know. Come early or late, and I will know. Attempt to pull and tricks, and there will be consequences.  
You can honor this arrangement by following these instructions: wait until sundown, and then find some transportation that will take you for fifty miles north out of town. Once you reach the fifty mile mark, walk on foot for an additional mile northeast. There, you shall find yourself in the familiar setting of a church that I myself was surprised to find abandoned out here in the sands. That is where I will be waiting for you.  
  
Until then, dearest Nicholas, I remain, your ever loving companion.  
Alexander  
P.S. It would be in your best interest to come as fast as possible. I have waited for so long for this final meeting, that my patience may begin to finally wear thin if I have to wait for too much longer.  
  
Wolfwood remained silent for a moment after reading the message. Then his body stiffened with rage. He crumpled the note up into a ball, threw it against the wall, and then kicked the overturned bed.  
After a moment, he restrained himself, and then went downstairs to check on Vash. Then he would have to hurry if he was to retrieve his cross punisher and make the meeting by nightfall. 


	6. A Talk with Evil

PART 6 A TALK WITH EVIL  
  
Merryl awoke with a start. She was blindfolded, but her other senses helped her get an idea of their surroundings. She could hear wind blowing through what sounded like a high roof, and the fluttering of birds that were nesting somewhere above her. She could smell a very musty sort of odor, and her nose twitched as some dust flew up her nostrils. It was hot, and stuffy, wherever they were.  
She felt something round and wet press against her lips, and the voice of her captor spoke softly to her.  
"Here, have some water."  
She took several gulps, washing the dust from her mouth, hydrating her throat. When he pulled the canteen from her mouth, she spoke.  
"Who are you? Why have you kidnapped us? Where are we?"  
"Questions, questions, questions..." he whispered. She felt hot skin brush against her cheek, scrambling behind her head as long fingers undid the knot of the blindfold. She found herself gazing at the same strong chin and rough whiskers she had seen the night before. He breathed heavily, blowing some locks of her hair away from her face. "So many questions...and yet so few answers." He turned from her and walked away. Merryl took a good look around, and recognized the setting as a church, albeit a run down, depleted one. It was long out of use; the wood structures were all rotted and breaking to pieces. The religious articles had all been removed, except for one stained glass window that still stood, the sunlight pouring through it in bright red and yellows on the floor. She also found Millie, laying on a pew, her arms and legs tied. She was sleeping soundly, her pain seemed gone.  
"Is Millie all right?"  
"Your friend is in a recuperative state while the anti-venom takes effect. All she needs now is time and rest."  
"Why?" Merryl asked as he stood in the multi-colored light pouring through the colored class. He gazed up at the image of a cross-imprinted on it, and seemed almost lost to the world. "You kidnap us, then save her, and now we're in a church? What is all of this?"  
"We are awaiting the arrival of your white knight on his silver steed. Once he is here, we shall settle accounts once and for all." As he spoke he reached up and pulled his hood from his face. He then loosened his cloak and let it drop from his shoulders. Merryl saw short, black hair, and broad, masculine shoulders. He was not wearing those metal claws now, and to Merryl's surprise, his hands were actually quite fine. The skin was clean and smooth, the fingers long and rather elegant looking. What kind of hands where those? And artists, a doctor's?  
"What are you doing? Why do you wear that thing? Are you trying to hide something?"  
"I hide my face behind a cloak of shadows to keep the world from seeing my shame."  
"What do you mean? Are you disfigured or something?"  
"Yes...horribly so. I cannot even look at myself in the mirror without cringing back in fear. But still...I must remove my cloak now and then, lest I feel it will strangle me at times." He took a few more steps, reached down and picked something up. When he held it up to the light, Merryl could see it was one of the metal claws. He touched it, and the talons spread apart, glinting in the dim light.  
"What are those things?"  
"These are the talons that rend human nightmares. They seek out the sinners, to tear at their souls."  
"Why are you talking like that? Speak normally, would you."  
"Heh...what's normal?" he chuckled over his shoulder at her. "Besides, you are in no position to be making demands of me." He examined the claws a little more, and then placed it back down. He put his cloak back on, pulling the hood over his face once again.  
"Why are you doing this to us?" Merryl asked him, her voice this time was one of sensitivity and openness.  
"Do you believe in destiny?" he replied, "That all things are preordained, and cannot be changed by outside factors, no matter how forcefully they may come? In the end, we must all hold our heads high, and walk into the darkness to face whatever shadows life may cast over us..." he knelt down and picked up the chipped head of a small statue of Jesus Christ that had apparently been left when the church was abandoned. He rolled it in his hands, seeming to be mesmerized by it. "Nicholas and I...we have ever been destined for this. Our fates have been tied together from the beginning. And so they shall, remain tied, to the end..."  
"I don't understand..."  
"Are you familiar with the Old Testament?" he said as he turned to face her. The question was sudden, and left Merryl speechless. He strode forward, throwing the small Jesus head aside. It shattered on the floor, the echo of its breaking reverberated through the old building. He stood before her, his hot breath against her face. "The story of Cain and Abel? How it was wicked Cain who struck his brother down, and carried the stains of Abel's blood on his hands forever? Nicholas and I...we both carry many stains. But tonight, one of us shall be washed clean of them, forever."  
"But..."  
"No more questions!" he hissed, slapping her hard across the face. It threw her head to the side, and tears of pain stung in her eyes. "You had best conserved you energy for tonight. And pray that Nicholas does not run from me like the coward I have always taken him for."  
He turned from her, thromped down the aisle, and left through the rotted doors of the church. Merryl remained in a stunned silence, whispering silent prayers for her safety. 


	7. Brawl to End it All

PART 7 BRAWL TO END IT ALL  
  
Wolfwood stood, staring at the ruined church. His hand tightened into a fist as he thought of Alex, of Merryl and Millie, of everything. He was almost certain he was walking into some sort of trap. But, for Merryl, and for Millie especially, he walked into it with his head held high, and a sense of pride in his heart. He hefted his cross punisher, and marched forward.  
He kicked the door to the church open, and leapt inside, landing in a crouch, ready for action. But there was no immediate danger. His eyes scanned the whole perimeter, checking each wall, each corner. His eyes eventually rested on the two people who were tied to the remnants of a large cross on what had probably once been an altar. Merryl and Millie strained to make themselves heard over the gags in their mouths. Wolfwood hurried over, dragging his cross with him.  
"Hold on girls. I'll have you out in a minute." They both made loud grunts behind the gags, trying to tell him something.  
"Nicholas!" Alex's voice cut the air like a knife. Wolfwood straightened up, moved his hands away from Millie's face, and slowly turned to face the demon.  
There he was. Alex stood in front of the door's Wolfwood had just entered through. His hands dangled at his sides, the metal claws glinting the moonlight. His cloak billowed in the desert wind. He grinned that horrible grin, his teeth seeming to glow in the soft darkness. Wolfwood stepped down from the altar, stood next to his cross, and met the coldness of Alex's eyes with the determination of his own.  
"I'm not scared of you anymore, Alex. And I'm not going to run from you anymore."  
"You should see yourself, Nicholas," he said, completely ignoring Wolfwood's statement. "Do you have any idea what you look like? You resemble a child, laying in his bed, afraid to pull the covers off his head and look into the darkness. You try to put on a brace face, try to pretend you are courageous. But in the end, you are still the same weeping, miserable, bed wetting infant you know you are."  
"This infants grown up, Alex. He's a man now. And he's tired of having you constantly looking over his shoulder."  
"Well, you shall never have to worry about that again, ever." With those words, Alex began his charge down the aisle toward Wolfwood. But Wolfwood moved quick as well, quickly tearing the cover off his cross, whipping two pistols from their place with in, and opening fire. Alex dodged the shots with expert speed, and leapt into the air, swinging his claws high over his head, intending to split Wolfwood from head to groin.  
Wolfwood leapt to the side, Alex landing with a hard crash onto the wood floor, kicking up sand and dust. Wolfwood leveled his guns to fire more shots, but Alex lunged into him, knocking one of the guns out of Wolfwood's hand and grasping Wolfwood's wrist with his own hand. He tried to bring his other claw down onto Wolfwood, but the wandering priest blocked the blow, clutching Alex's wrist. They started into each other's souls, their eyes filled with anger and hatred. They exchanged curses, head-butted each other savagely and tried their best to overpower the other. Wolfwood won this struggle first, and struck Alex across the face with his pistol. He tried to aim for a final shot, but Alex was back in an instant, clapping one claw hard around Wolfwood's throat, lifting him off his feet, and slamming him down onto one of the pews. The rotted wood collapsed under him, large chunks splintering in all directions. Wolfwood grabbed one of these splinters, and swung it up at Alex, who blocked the blow with his forearm. The wood broke against his skin, and Wolfwood felt a sweat drop fall from his brow as he watched Alex's arm wind back, and then fly forward to crush him. But Wolfwood rolled out of the way of the blow, and instead Alex's fist crashed through the wooden floor, leaving him stuck for a single second. He yanked his fist free and stood to face Wolfwood again.  
"Fuck you!" Wolfwood shouted as he came back with a punch of his own. It struck Alex hard across his jaw, the force spun him completely around and sent him sprawling to the floor. Wolfwood leapt for his cross, reaching for more guns...  
  
Vash stumbled and fell. He struggled back to his feet and then leaned against a large rock. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his vision. He raised his head and gazed ahead of him. The world seemed to be listing a bit, tilting slightly from side to side. His vision would blur, and then clear, only to blur again.  
He stood back up and walked a few more feet before stumbling again. He fell forward onto his hands and knees and cursed into the sand. Trying to keep up to Wolfwood alone was sapping every bit of energy he could muster. At this rate he would arrive just in time to wipe up whatever was left of his friends.  
After he had awoken, groggy but alive, back at the inn, he had struggled to interrogate the innkeeper, who had a rough time understanding Vash's slurred dialect. After finding out where Wolfwood had gone, he had to haggle with the innkeeper, surrendering the last of what money he had had left in order to get the man do arrange some transportation out this far. And now, he had to try to walk the rest of the way. Adding to the difficulty was the fact that he was carrying Merryl and Millie's weapons with him. He had a nagging feeling they were all going to need to be able to defend themselves.  
He pulled himself back to his feet and continued on his way. After stumbling and rising about twelve more times, he fell face first into the sand and then just lay, waiting to die. But after a moment, his ears perked slightly. He could make out a familiar noise somewhere nearby: gunshots.  
  
Wolfwood struggled to see over the flashes of his pistols. The smell of gunpowder was growing thick in the air. If any of his shots actually connected, Alex did not show it. He was currently running across the top of the pews, jumping and dodging Wolfwood's shots as he went. He leapt down behind one of the pews and vanished. Wolfwood tried to fire more shots off, but his pistols only made clicks. Empty. Wolfwood cursed and tossed them aside. He then grabbed his cross punisher and tucked it firmly under his arm, readying the heavy machine gun it contained. He slowly edged his way down the aisle between the pews, ready to open fire.  
His eyes flicked all over. He tried to keep calm, to keep his hands steady. But he was now more nervous than he had ever been in his life. In each shadow, he saw Alex's eyes. In each whisper of the wind, he heard his laugh. He spun around, aiming at nothing. Then he spun in another direction, once again aiming at nothing.  
There it was! He pressed hard on the rigger, the shots tearing the air and carving up the rotted wood of the pews next to him in seconds. He screamed as he continued to fire, his cries rising above even the ringing of the bullets flying through the air. Eventually he released the trigger and stood, panting, while the dust and smoke cleared. When he could finally see, he found himself staring at nothing but a pile of shredded wood. He narrowed his eyes. He had been certain he heard something.  
A section of one pew, torn from its place in the floor, crashed down over his back. It knocked the air out of him, sent him down onto the floor. He tried to get to his knees, but Alex proceeded to ram kick after rib-cracking kick into his body. Finally he stopped and raised his claw over his head, ready for the final blow.  
Wolfwood moved as fast as he could. He rolled to his side, retrieved his fallen cross, and fired off, not bothering to aim, just hoping to hit something. The bullets missed Alex's body, but tore the upraised claw to pieces, leaving his hand bare and exposed.  
Back up on the altar, Merryl had managed to work her mouth free of her gag, and was struggling to do the same with the knots that bound her.  
"Don't worry Millie...just give me a minute here..."  
"Need a hand?" a shaky voice murmured from behind her. She recognized the voice, in spite of how slurred and sloppy it was. "Vash!" she said, trying to keep her voice down lest she call Alex's attention onto her. "Hurry, get us out!"  
"Jusht give ush a minute, we'll have ya'll right outta here..." he said as he fumbled with the knots. After a few seconds, he fell onto his knees. Merryl groaned and rolled her eyes.  
Back on the floor, Wolfwood was back on his feet, facing down Alex. He parried with his cross when Alex lunged in and thrust at him with his remaining claw. Alex unleashed a flurry of slashes and stabs, and Wolfwood held his cross up in front of him, blocking each one. Sparks flew as metal screeched against metal. They danced around each other in this deadly tango. Finally, Wolfwood struck back, swinging his cross as hard as he could. But Alex dodged the blow expertly, leaping back, landing on his feet. Wolfwood quickly flipped the cross around and fired off a single rocket. Alex leapt over it, somersaulting in the air as the rocket roared beneath him and impacted with the wall, the explosion rattling the whole building, the roof groaning and threatening to collapse. He landed directly in front of Wolfwood and charged into him, tackling against him. They fell to the floor, tangled with each other.  
Alex straddled Wolfwood and punched him hard across the face with his naked hand. The claw he leveled at Wolfwood's throat.  
"Get ready..." he hissed. Wolfwood closed his eyes and waited...  
"That's enough!" a third voice broke in. Alex's face raised just in time to see what was coming. The X-shaped stunner slammed into him, full force, pulled him off of Wolfwood, lifted him from the ground completely. He tumbled through the air for a moment before crashing into the stain- glass window, through the window. The glass fragmented everywhere, Alex's scream fading as he fell outside.  
Wolfwood sat up and turned at his waist to look behind him. Millie and Merryl were free, weapons in hand. Vash stood behind them, his knees drooping, his shoulder sagging. He straightened up like a shot, eyes wide, only sink back down into the drugged slouch. Millie's stun gun smoked, and from behind it she wore a look of hard determination he had only seen on her a few times before. Right now, she looked like an angel to him.  
He rose to his feet, limped his way over to her, and threw his arms around her.  
"Glad to see you're feeling better" he said with a soft chuckle. He felt her arms tighten around him, and heard her sniffle. After a moment, he pulled away, wiped the tear from her face, and gave her his smile. It comforted her, and she returned it with her own.  
Wolfwood then turned to Merryl and held his hand out to her. "Give me a gun."  
"Huh?" was the group response from Merryl, Millie, and Vash.  
"Give me a gun. This isn't over yet." Merryl hesitated a moment before handing him one of her tiny derringers. He grimaced a the size of it, but accepted it anyway. He addressed them all grimly. "Stay in here, no matter what you hear. This is between me and him."  
"And what if he wins?" Vash demanded before he drooped back down again.  
"Then God will protect all of you, I'm sure." With that Wolfwood turned from them, ran down the aisle to the entrance of the church, and went outside. 


	8. One Shot

PART 8 ONE FINAL SHOT  
  
Wolfwood moved slowly. He kept as focused as he possibly could. The sand crunched beneath his feet. His heart pounded hard enough to burst from his chest, and he was more than a little afraid the loudness of its beating would alert Alex to his presence before he was ready. His heart beat so hard, he could feel the veins pulsing in his neck.  
He waited for something to happen. He muttered silently to himself, praying for some divine intervention to end this before anyone else was hurt.  
As if his prayers had somehow been answered, he saw the dark figure of Alex dart from behind some rocks up ahead of him and dash behind the corner of the church's outer wall. Wolfwood managed to keep a steady hand. He only had one shot with this gun, and he could not afford to waste it until he was certain. He pressed his back against the wall and slowly edged, one foot coming up alongside the other before it would move. He held his breath, trying not to make a sound. From head to toe he trembled, his body unable to stay still. A huge lump was building in his throat, but he held back the tears. Here he was now, right next to the corner. All he had to do was move around the edge and finish it. He closed his eyes tight, forced his body to be still, forced his aim to be true, and leapt out into the open....  
And faced nothing but sand and the church wall. Alex had vanished from sight. Wolfwood cursed, his body going limp as some of the tension lifted. He started to turn, and walked straight into the metal fast that had been waiting for him.  
He was knocked to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth. Alex grabbed him, the metal claws ripping through the cloth of Wolfwood's shirt as he hauled him to his feet. He threw him back against the wall and punched him hard in the face, again, and again, and again, and again. Wolfwood lost count of the blows, his mind unable to keep a thought as his neck whipped back with the force of each punch. When the flurry of blows finally stopped, Wolfwood's face was shattered. He felt a small, hard object rolling around under his tongue, certain it was a tooth. Blood had soaked his collar, and more still came from his nose and lips. Alex switched his grip, trading his bare hand for the claw. He leveled the tip of those monster fingers at Wolfwood's eyes, ready to pierce through the eyeballs in a flood of liquid crimson and then push all the way through to the brain that lay somewhere in the skull.  
"Leave him alone!" Millie's shrill cry alerted him, and he dropped to the ground, rolled along the sand, and was up on his feet in front of her faster than she could blink. He tore her stun gun from her hands, threw it aside, and grasped her neck with his bare hand.  
"That's enough out of you!" he screamed, raising the claw high. Merryl and Vash, both now just coming around the side of the building, saw what was going to happen, forced themselves to move faster than they ever had before to raise their weapons...  
  
Nichoals P. Wolfwood, 7 years of age, started down at the dead body of his mother. The tears blurred his vision, his hands trembling with rage and mourning. He collapsed onto her knees next to her, placed her cold hand against his face, hoping her fingers would ruffle his hair the way they always did.  
"You could have stopped it..." Alex said between his teeth. Nicholas looked up at him through the tears.  
"Alex, please..."  
"Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!" Alex screamed. He launched himself into Nicholas, they rolled along the ground, Alex's small fists beating on Nicholas' body. When they finally separated, Alex stared down angrily at Nicholas. "Whatever it takes Nicholas, I'm gonna punish you for it!" he growled, and with that he stomped his feet, spun around, and walked away.  
"Alex!" Nicholas cried. But the cries fell on deaf ears, for Alex was no longer who he had once been...  
  
They all stood, frozen. The gunshot had gone off, but it took them all a moment to realize just who had fired it. All eyes turned to Wolfwood, who stood, smoking derringer in his hand. If Alex was hit, he failed to show it. He stood, struggling for something to say.  
Finally, he opened his mouth, but all that came was a hoarse croak. He tried again, making an even worse noise this time. Realization and horror all dawned in his eyes, and his breathing became fast and panicked. He reached up and tugged at his collar. Warm blood squirted from the wound in his neck, some of it splashing on Millie's face.  
He released Millie, and turned stiffly to face Wolfwood. His eyes bulged beneath the hood, and he struggled to speak through his pierced throat.  
"Nicholasss....you actually ssshot meee..." he remained standing for a only a moment before he collapsed, his body simply giving way under the weight of what was happening. Wolfwood dropped the derringer from his hand, and dashed over to the fallen demon's side. He tore the remaining claw from Alex's hand and tossed it aside. The metal limb twitched on the ground for a moment, and then was still.  
"Alex!" Wolfwood said, the tears pouring freely now, "I didn't want to! I'm sorry!"  
"It'sss so cold..." Alex hissed before coughing up a gout of blood. It splashed onto his chest, and onto their clutched hands. Vash, Merryl., and Millie all moved closer to try to see what was happening.  
"Alex, please, say its all right, say you forgive me, please!" Wolfwood shouted down at him. Alex's hand tightened on his own.  
"Nicholasss...I can see her..." at this Wolfwood's eyes widened.  
"Are you sure?"  
"I can see her face...she's so beautiful..." Alex took a single, trembling breath, and moved no more. Wolfwood clutched his hand, the sobs pouring from him now as water pours from the waterfall.  
"Alex..." he whispered, and pulled the hood away from the dead man's face. 


	9. Keep the Faith

PART 9 KEEP THE FAITH  
  
"My God!" Merryl said as she came up next to Wolfwood, who was still clutching Alex's dead hand. "He looks just like you! He..." her gaze went back and forth from Wolfwood to the dead man laying beneath him. "He's your twin!"  
Millie stared in utter disbelief. She had been examining the handsome face of their companion frequently as of late, and she could not deny the resemblance, in spite of how much she wanted too. The hair was different, shorter, but aside from that, the demon that had tortured them looked exactly like the wandering priest. The same chin, the same mouth, the same nose, even their eyes were the same color, except that now Alex's eyes had attained the glassiness of death, rolled up in the sockets. Wolfwood reached down the face and pushed the eyelids closed over those eyes.  
"Wolfwood..." Vash said as is friend stood to his feet, "What is going on here? Why does he look like you? Is he actually..."  
"My brother" Wolfwood said, answering before the question could even be finished.  
"Dear God..." Merryl gasped. It was not the horror that they had just endured that now frightened her the most, but the realization that it was Wolfwood's own brother who had put them through this hell, who had poisoned Millie, threatened their lives, tried to kill them and their friends. "But...why?"  
"Would the two of you please just go back..." Wolfwood said, not even bringing his face up to meet their questioning eyes. "There are some things I have to do here..."  
The three all fought for a moment to find something to say, but then give into his request. Merryl and Millie each wrapped an arm around Vash's shoulders, helping him to walk as he was still suffering the effects of the drugs Alex had injected him with. It would be dawn by the time they were back at their inn. Millie would spend the day gazing out the window, her heart and mind both questioning everything.  
  
Wolfwood wiped some sweat from his brow. He gazed down at the body of his brother, laying at the bottom of the grave he had dug for it. He had cleaned Alex up as best he could, given the circumstances. He had wiped most of the blood away, and had manipulated the face into a more pleasant expression, weeping the whole time he had to touch his brother's cold face.  
He sighed, and started to push the sand back into the hole, covering the body up. Once the hole was filled, he began piling stones onto it, creating a rough cairn so that the body would remain where it was, peaceful and undisturbed.  
That task done, he turned his attention to he hateful claw that had remained where he had thrown it the whole time. He frowned at the very sight of it. He walked over, picked it up, tossed it high into the air, and then blasted it to pieces. The larger chunks left over he smashed against the rocks and then tossed away, spreading its remains all over. He crossed himself and uttered a silent prayer that that would be the end of those things.  
It was well past nightfall when he rejoined his companions.  
  
"When our mother was killed...it drove a wedge between us..." Wolfwood explained. Vash, Merryl, and Millie all sat at the table, watching him. He downed another shot of whisky, and refilled his glass. His cheeks were stained light pink, getting darker with each shot he drank. But they did not stop him. This time, they knew, he needed it. "He blamed me for it...I guess he was just angry, and lashing out at anything he could find..." he sighed deeply and banged his drink back, reaching for more.  
"Are you sure you want to tell us all this? We know how upsetting it must be..." Merryl offered, trying her best to sound as sisterly as she could.  
"No, you don't" he replied coldly before he went on. "I didn't see him for almost eight years. I was still training then. He tracked me down, and tried to kill me. But it didn't work out the way he'd wanted. In the end, he spent five years in a jail cell, I went out in the desert alone...and a little girl was dead."  
"Ouch." Vash said, flinching as if he physically felt the pain of those words.  
"Yeah. I honestly didn't expect to ever see him again...at least, no in this life. I'd hoped that maybe, all alone with his thoughts, he'd find some way to forgive me. But I guess all he did was get angrier. You know the rest."  
"It must have hurt you so much..." Millie said, rising from her seat. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him gently. He did not move to return the gesture. "Having your own brother hate you so much..."  
"Millie...it was the worst feeling I ever knew. You couldn't possibly imagine it."  
"Oh, I might have a better idea than you think." Vash said quietly. If any of them noticed this, they did not show it. They simply kept their attention on Wolfwood.  
"Is there anything we can do?" Millie asked him, truly concerned.  
"No. I just feel like being alone right now..." they all waited for him to say something else. But after a few moments, they rose and started to leave. Vash stopped and placed a hand on Wolfwood's shoulder.  
"Hey...you're going to be okay, you know that?" Wolfwood managed to force a brief smile. Vash returned it. "Hey, for love..."  
"And peace." Wolfwood finished. Vash left him in solitude. After a moment, Wolfwood grabbed the whisky bottle and drank directly from it. "Right now..." he thought aloud, "I just want to get drunk and go to sleep." And, he hoped, his dreams would be untroubled for the first time in a long time by visions of his past.  
After polishing off the liquor, he began to peel his clothes off, preparing for bed, even though it was only late afternoon. He felt he could sleep for a month. As he unbuttoned his shirt, there was a knock at the door. He answered it hesitantly, thinking it was probably Vash. But, much to his surprise, he found himself gazing into the blue eyes of Millie. For a moment, they were both left speechless. Millie's eyes settled on Wolfwood's bared chest...  
"Something I can do for you?" Wolfwood finally said, breaking the silence. Millie was shaken out of her momentary distraction, and met his eyes once more.  
"Oh...I just didn't think you should be alone..." she reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. It seemed to soothe him; his whole body relaxed at her touch. He placed his hand over hers, savored the feel of his skin on her skin. When he met her eyes again, he felt some familiar stirrings in him, and suddenly no longer wished to be alone. She caught it in his eyes, and did not shy away. Instead, she offered him a mischievous smile, and he ushered her in. They amused themselves well through the rest of the day, and into the night.  
At dawn, they both slept hard.  
  
"Everybody needs somebody to love  
  
Everybody needs somebody to hate  
  
Everybody's bitching  
  
'cause they can't get enough  
  
And it's hard to hold on  
  
When there's no one to lean on  
  
Faith: you know you're gonna live thru the rain  
  
Lord you got to keep the faith  
  
Faith: don't let your love turn to hate  
  
Right now we got to  
  
Keep the faith"  
  
BON JOVI  
  
Well, that is all for this fic, good readers. Thank you for your flattering reviews, and thanks especially to those who have been following my work here on fanfiction.net. I appreciate your faithfulness more than you can possibly know. And so, till next time, THIS LAND IS MADE OF...LOVE AND PEACE! 


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